


Seven Kingdoms: A Peer Predicament

by lovinglydull



Category: Seven Kingdoms: A Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Possible Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinglydull/pseuds/lovinglydull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The not-so-silly lives of the nameless, faceless delegates of the Seven Summit, doomed to obscurity and possible death by people far more competent and pretty than themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions are in order

**Author's Note:**

> Seven Kingdoms: A Princess Problem is a rather nice visual novel by Azalyne Studios. It's currently nowhere near finished, but you can see the rather extensive and choice filled demo below:
> 
> https://sevenkingdomsgame.wordpress.com/demo/

Dear Sister,

 

I'll tell you about my trip. First, the way here.

 

Creaking. Damp. Unpleasant. I could have said a lot of things about this ship, and this trip. I expect anything I said would be true. Dressing up and playing pretend isn't my idea of fun, but some of the women here absolutely hate it, and won't shut up about it. Assaulting my own countrymen for being annoying isn't a good idea, which is why I'm haven't paddled my way home on a raft.

 

I'm actually a bit excited about this, mostly because I've heard that some of the men of other countries aren't cowardly, soft wimps that would fall in a stiff breeze. The chance to meet a few like that is rather nice, and I've always had a bit of a love for the exotic. If I end up jumping the bones of one of them without a few breaking, that would be a further bonus.

 

Kidding.

 

Caught glimpses of some foreign men on the way up. Most of them were scrawny things I could break over my knee. Not a good sign. Almost as bad a sign as me not being allowed to carry my axe.

 

Butlers were nice. Maids were nice. Hunger wasn't nice. Being rushed out to the ballroom wasn't nice.

 

Princess immediately went off to some pretty thing. The rest of the women talked with each other, then scattered. I was alone.

 

Talked to some girls sitting together. Lots of fluff, no substance. Like brother, almost.

 

Talked to a pirate. Older fellow. He asked if he could challenge me to an arm wrestling contest. He's my favorite so far.

Talked to a brown-haired boy in white. Something about him seemed wrong, but he was nice enough.

Girl with bells on her dress waved and smiled at me. I grunted through a conversation. She didn't mind.

All in all: bored. A few women stole the spotlight, and hogged the better picks of the delegates.

 

Dinner was delicious, probably because I was hungry. Seatmates were interesting. Weasel man on left, all grins and soft words. Puffed up boy with stupid haircut on right, kept glaring at me. Not sure who I hate more.

 

We spoke. Some sounded good. Some sounded bad. Some sounded like idiots. One sounded like a very big idiot.

 

I've run out of things to talk about.

 

Bye,

Eida

 

* * *

 

Journal of Sir Nathaniel Horner, Baron of Rein, Knight of Wellin

 

Entry 1

 

Seasickness is a terrible thing. But not as terrible as I fear the rest of these two months will be.

 

The Crown saw fit to send minor delegates of little consequence along with its darling Perfect Prince and Princess. Competent enough to not embarrass them entirely, and inconsequential and demure enough to not rob the heirs of their well undeserved attention. Obviously the possibility of any of us being murdered or robbed or blackmailed is just a risk they're willing to take. With us.

 

The only upside to this trip is the chance to see Her Ladyship, the Countess of Holt, again. She would not have me, I know. Some minor noble with a decorative knightly title slapped on isn't the biggest catch in the sea. But that charming, courageous and noble heart still keeps me enraptured. To avoid the risk of turning my personal memoirs into a steamy romance, I'll move on to the start of the festivities.

 

My butler's admonitions about tracking mud into the hall notwithstanding, uneventful. ~~The manservant I was assigned knew his way around measuring tape and the male anatomy, that's for sure.~~

 

I should strike that last bit out.

 

Yet again, still uneventful. A woman from Corval was very grabby, could have been flirting, could have been trying to get my guard down and sink a dagger in my back. I haven't been to their court, but she seems friendly enough. The nearly-thirty-year-old pirate was less pleasant with me, all because I asked him how often he used his sword. I was going to segue into a comment about how my own sword was rather rusty, but he began to lecture me about how he had responsibilities, his blade was his lifeline, et cetera. I bit off more than I could chew there.

 

Didn't see the Countess. Did have an engaging conversation with a maiden from Arland with a surprising grasp of innuendo. Evette. I need to remember that name. She's not the Countess, but she's interesting.

 

The rest made as much of an impression on me as a fingerprint on solid steel.

 

So far, so boring.

* * *

Cousin Lyra

 

Hello, hello! I got your letter about the opening night. It's a shame about how the Wellin boy reacted, but ah, he's just one boy. I know you've got your irons in the fire, and those irons, they can get pretty hot if you know what I mean. But you don't want to hear your old lech of a cousin rattle on about getting some action, I'm sure.

 

I'm glad you're getting to know both the boys and the girls at the event. Remember, this is your ticket into the good graces of the inner court if you succeed. If you don't, at least you’ll have allies to fall back on. And you might get to have some fun, too. You're a smart girl, and I know you've got something up your sleeve.

 

Here's the tea you asked for. Five bags. Save it for special occasions.

 

A thousand hugs and kisses, your cousin,

Safiya

* * *

Minister Ashe,

 

Nothing new to report. My fellow delegates are on their best behavior, it seems. One doesn't cooperate, but he's always been a hardcase, hasn't he? The natives give us a rather narrow berth, but it doesn't seem like anything wrong. The Summit proceeds rather predictably. I've heard horror stories about a matchmaker, but if she's anything like the matchmakers I'm familiar with, nothing will go wrong.

 

How's your wife, by the way? Last I saw her, she was doing well. If it's a problem with her lungs, however, it can easily get worse this time of year. Hot tea and a cool, dry room are the best remedies I can recommend, unfortunately.

 

May these weeks be a good time for us both,

 

Lord Sora

* * *

Carson,

 

I know that I didn't exactly get off on the wrong foot with you. But I chalk that up to being raised by my paranoid, thoroughly uncouth uncle, and his idea of "toughening me up" by making me suspicious of everything. Making me not forget the scars.

I didn't know you at the time, and I understand that violence is unacceptable, and has possibly cost me my position as a delegate. But please, let me make it up to you. I'm not a bad person, I swear. All I wish to do is make my country proud, and hopefully stave off the fire that seems to burn away bits of the world every time I turn my head.

I want peace. Peace for you, peace for my country. Hell, peace for my uncle, may his black and broken soul rest in peace.

Just give me a chance, Carson. I promise not to waste it.

\- Viscount Walter Stahl of Arland, your temporary master, your everpresent friend, and a very repentant man


	2. Breaking Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions have ensued. Drama has now begun.

The Journal of Sir Nathaniel Horner, Baron of Rein, Knight of Wellin

Fifth entry

I'm finished.

I always had a low picture of my self esteem, but the assessment by the matchmaker makes that picture much clearer. No wonder no one looks at me with respect.

No wonder the Countess doesn't look at me with respect.

I need to be alone.

* * *

Dear Sister,

Even less to speak of. I've kept my skill up. Maids insisted on putting kohl on me. I don't mind, if it keeps me from being yelled at by a scary woman. Not scary like a warrior charging a hill. Scary in a loud, screeching way. Made me feel small inside. Worse, I couldn't make it go away with training. I still hear it.

The man that glared at me, he saw the woman. He was shaking, looked sick. Said nothing. Now, I see him every day. Training with us. Angry, wild. I don't know what she said, but for him, it was the worst thing.

Woman with the bells again, finally got her name. Lyra's a pretty name.

Say hello to Brother for me.

Eida.

* * *

Cousin Safiya,

So delighted to hear from you! Oh, and very grateful for the tea! I don't expect anything to happen, considering the very formal air I'm getting from this place, but I've been brushing up on my feminine wiles to see if they may pay off.

The matchmaker had nothing good to say about me, but I have a feeling she says that about everyone. So instead of focusing on that, let me focus on some good news: I've nailed three dates for this week!

Well, in the sense of succeeding at them.

I won't go into too much detail, but one of them was a rather adventurous mature man. Much more polite than I thought he would be, and handsome to boot. I can imagine it now: his strong, calloused hands passing over my shoulders, resting at my waist. His heat at my back, as we simply lie down together. The sands stretch out before us, and the sky reaches all around us.

Look at me going on like some lovestruck maid. I'm done with this letter.

Yours lovingly,

Cousin Lyra

* * *

 

Minister Ashe

Things are becoming interesting here in an unfortunate way. The grumbling has started. The usual breakage points are there. But there's two added ones: the crown, the cross, and the sceptre. The crown's split down the middle, two uneven sides that are barely holding together. The cross and the sceptre should go hand in hand, but it seems like the fashion has changed.

I'll tell the general about your concerns. He'll need to be ready, in case something untoward happens. Although I doubt he hasn't readied himself before he even came here.

Lord Sora

* * *

To whom it may concern,

Please don't cause another outburst.

I understand you're upset. I understand you're angry. But I also understand that you're supposed to represent your country on the world stage.

You're important. Act important.

 

* * *

Lyra,

I start thinking about the meaning of my ship's name. Howe's Lament.

We spread some tall tale about it being some ghost ship, hull stuffed with the corpses of sailors from whatever nation the listener's from. I think you're smart enough to know when I'm embellishing, and I think you won't accept anything less than the truth. So here goes.

Admiral Howe was a great woman. Two great ships, wealth abound, and a family that loved her. But one day, a storm came. Her ships were washed away. And so, her wealth was spent making a new one. But she wanted this one bigger, grander than either ship. She wanted it to have the best of every vessel she knew.

And so, the building of the ship took a decade. Her finances ran dry. Her family forgot her. And by the time it was finished, she was an old, frail woman that could neither hire nor command a crew. And so she gave it to my family, more than willing to give up the last great work of her life as long as she knew that someone would appreciate it.

There's a lesson in that. Admiral Howe could be me one day. She could be you. She could be anyone here. It takes a lot to be great. It doesn't take a lot to be washed up.

Winds favor you,

Jotham

* * *

Carson,

I told everyone about the bruises, and that I had fallen down a hill on one of my wanderings around the isle. Now, I know that you've sworn that you will never divulge my secrets, so I have one very, very important thing to add before I get into any detail:

After you read this, burn it.

Baron Horner is a confused man. Just like me. If I deserve a chance to continue, he deserves that same chance. He isn't after my safety. This doesn't deserve to turn into a national incident, and it certainly doesn't warrant him being sent home in disgrace.

I was walking around the isle. You remember Baron Horner leading me back to my room, you remember the utterly devastated look on his face, and you remember that he blamed himself for my injuries. That's because I didn't fall down a hill. I was pushed to the ground, and very nearly knocked senseless by an enraged Baron. Although I can't say I didn't provoke him.

The topic started as idle chat, enjoying the scenery and finding out where to best put down a spot for a picnic. It turned to people, soon enough. I asked him about his family, he asked me about mine. I asked him about the delegates, he mentioned a few random women in a noncommittal tone. I then said, “What about the Countess of Holt? It seems you have your eye on her.”

At that, he froze. “Mind your own business.”

I shook my head. “There's no use in it, you know. Unrequited love, undiplomatic marriage.”

He turned away from me. I could tell I touched a nerve. But like a fool, I kept pushing. I trotted out a speech about duty, self-sacrifice, and perseverance, from my uncle's mouth straight into my own.

He turned into a beast. He gnashed his teeth, pushed me off the hill, hard. Knelt over me, hands on my collar, eyes filled with rage. And he did something I didn't expect.

His face broke, his rage washed away, and he wept openly. It was pitiful, in a way that makes it painful to think about. He crawled off of me. He wouldn't stop crying. He wouldn't stop repeating, “I just want it to matter.” This rather shameful display continued for I don't know how many minutes, and I started believing someone had seen the spectacle.

Any number of my relatives and countrymen would cry for his blood for daring to lay hands on me, and because he's barely a footnote in politics, they'd have it.

So for the sake of me and Baron Horner – for the sake of Nathan – please keep this a secret.

Walter

* * *

Your Highness,

I heard about your problems with rodents. What a shame.

There's a bird on my balcony that may be useful in rooting out rats.

The bird's a bit shy. Come alone.


	3. One down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though personal drama is winding down, there's more than one source of conflict at the Summit.

Sweet and Graceful Lyra,

 

Ha! I suppose my letter was rather grim, considering the subject. It's unfortunate, but when you grow older, you have a tendency to become jaded and cynical, the once-vibrant zest of life turning into a dull, bitter tang. I hope that hasn't deflated the romantic air of mystique about me, knowing that I'm some crotchety man going through an early mid-life crisis.

 

It's a shame that I had to subject a lovely young woman to my rants about the impermanence of fame and fortune. It's an even further shame that the lovely young woman was you.

 

Perhaps my next letter will be about kittens.

 

The noble and mighty,

Jotham

 

* * *

Dear Sister,

 

Pirate talked to me. Don't know how to spell his name. Don't really know how to pronounce it. He noticed I wasn't feeling well, even a few days after the screaming woman. Told me he was also scared, of letting down his crew, of letting down himself. Told me that this place was getting to more people than me. He was my favorite for a reason.

 

I introduced myself. It went well. Please don't ask about it.

 

Eida

 

* * *

Carson,

 

It's good to write a letter to you that isn't me pleading about something. I've been wondering about who to invite on another sojourn. The ladies of Skalt look like they'd appreciate it, and there's an Earl of my own country that seems nice enough. Maybe the one Piratical Princess I've heard about?

 

I might just as well take a walk myself. I have a few stressful things in my head, and some rest and relaxation in the gardens might help.

 

Ah, I know! There's a party I believe I was invited to. An afternoon tea. Tea always calms my nerves. It's a few days off, but I'm sure it'll be a good time when it gets here.

 

What would you recommend doing?

 

Walter

 

* * *

Cousin Safyra,

 

No special occasions, although it would probably take more than a week for something like that to happen. But something rather unexpected has occurred.

 

I came back from a pleasant talk in the garden with a rather unpleasant man from Revaire, and a brief interlude with everyone's favorite court jester. Nothing strange happened until I came back to my room, and I did not see my servant there. My gold was still present and accounted for, and none of my personal effects were moved, taken or tampered with. But the tea you sent me, gilded box and all, is

 

Not all of it. Two of the bags, I've cleverly concealed on my person in a rather unladylike fashion. Fitting, considering the uses of the tea are rather unladylike in and of themselves.

 

I'm worried about what would happen if word got around that I had taken this charming herbal remedy to the Summit. Nothing big enough to warrant being barred from participating, but still a scandal I'd like to avoid, if possible.

 

Your adorable cousin,

Lyra

 

* * *

The Journal of Sir Nathaniel Horner, Baron of Rein, Knight of Wellin

 

Entry 12

 

Huh. I just noticed.

Evette. Yvette.

I'd be daft to suggest they're related based off that (though it's possible), but it seems like Evette and variations thereof are rather common in Arland.

Right, following that irrelevancy, the self-introductions. I obviously learned more about others. For instance, the contrition and terseness that one Skalt woman showed me seem to not be some tough warrior woman act, as I was convinced when she introduced herself. She barely could get her name out, and when asked what she wanted from the summit, she wavered, stared down at her shoetops, and simply ceased speaking, sitting down without finishing. Demure and delicate doesn't describe any of the delegates from Skalt, but I see not all of them have veins of ice and hearts of iron.

A few more caught my eye. One woman's “I want to be like Katyia” speech was rather overwrought, idealistic prattle, but it's good that there are some people out there with lofty goals. My Countess spoke, as well.

She's not a graceful speaker by any measure, but her speeches usually carry with them their own measure of charm. Still, I remember the words of that one man, Walter. I'm not nearly as happy to hear her words today as I would have been just a week before.

When it came to me, I was short, curt, and as frank as could be. “I'm Baron Horner of Wellin, and I just want these seven weeks to matter.”

I think I got the point across.

I retired early. I was done with socializing for the day, and possibly for all of next week.

Ah, well, only time will tell.

One final note. I'm going to try to talk to the Countess. Try to clear the air, as it were.

It may take a while. There's a lot of air that needs clearing.

* * *

 Sir, 

This is honestly getting ridiculous.

 

I see you at your writing desk every time I go into the room. And it's always either an invitation you never send, a letter to your homeland, or a letter addressed to me.

I truly do not wish to be rude, but since I am almost always in your chambers as you write your letters, it wouldn't take too much effort to turn around and talk to me. Far less wasted ink and paper, as well. And if you're worried about people listening, I assure you: the walls here are rather thick.

I just want you to know that your well-being – whether physical, mental, or emotional – is my concern. If there are any issues you require my help on, simply asking me in person is the best course of action.

 

Your servant,

Carson

 

* * *

Minister Ashe,

 

I went down to the countryside where the servants kept the hens. It seemed there was a panic in the coop. I inquired what happened, and the servants said that there was a fox, trying desperately to get into the coop. The fox didn't succeed, but it's still out there. And who knows when it's coming back?

 

I'm glad to hear your wife's recovering. At least there's some good news.

 

Lord Sora

 


	4. Interlude

Carson,

I'm glad for the talk we had the other day. You're right. I need to trust people. You, most of all.

This will be my last letter to you, at least. One of the Jiyel women has caught my eye. She seems like she has wit and charm to spare. I may invite her over for an afternoon.

Your friend,

Walter

* * *

Dear Sister,

I've gotten compliments. On my looks, on my smarts, on the way I carry myself. That is how I know I can succeed. I'm not the same girl the woman screamed at a week ago. I'll walk in, and it'll be her that has to take a test! I'll take notes on her failures!

The day will come when Eida's a name everyone at this place will respect. I know it. I'm sure you know it. And I'm sure some waif of a man can't tell me otherwise.

I just want you to know, all of my success, I want to thank you for. You're the reason why I could stay in this place for so long. I don't want to bring dishonor to my family, or my country. But more than that, I don't want to bring dishonor to you, Sister.

 

I miss you.

 

Eida

* * *

The Journal of some self-important twit from Wellin, who wants these seven weeks to end already.

 

Entry seventeen, I believe

 

I end up finding something legitimately important to say about something that may endanger the life of My Lady and those she loves, and you know what happens? The termites come out of the woodwork. I have never liked the fact that second and third sons take up so much of her free time, but the fact that they've followed her to the Summit is absolutely unbearable. I'm here on the behalf of my stubborn affection, and nothing happens. I'm here on the behalf of global stability, however, and suddenly there's an ocean between me and my target.

 

I need to seek her out tomorrow. I can't let what I have to say go to waste, especially considering what I've heard whispers of.

 

This is it, Nathan.

 

Break a leg.

 

* * *

Cousin Lyra,

  
I sincerely hope you find that gift of yours. It was of great expense, and I hope you get to use it. After all, this is a special occasion, you might as well make it an extra special occasion.

 

Murmurs abound over here, although they die down before they make it far outside of the Inner Court. Apparently something more than either of us realized is going down over there. I won't give specifics in case a charming butler of yours is reading letters, but “watch your back” is the best advice I can give.

 

I will say this, though. If you smell any incense burning, I suggest leaving the room immediately.

 

May you be carried home safely,

Safyra

* * *

Minister Ashe,

 

I'm going to be rather blatant here. I think I've been found out. I knew this outfit was a terrible idea from the start, but it wouldn't do for an open and high-ranking member of this particular Ministry to wander around in plain sight.

I spent an afternoon with a young man from Arland. Something strange happened, and unless he is horribly gullible or imperceptive, I believe I've been found out.

 

And that's all I will say on the matter.

 

I'll wait until tomorrow before doing anything rash, because drink may have dulled his memory and senses. But there's some dangerous territory here, and I'd ranter not go into it here.

 

Sincerely,

Lord Sora

 

* * *

Lyra,

 

I could go on about how you're as pretty as the notes of a harp, or as graceful as a bird in flight. I could pump out empty flattery like a pious noble family pumps out children. Instead, I'll say something meaningful.

I saw someone walking away form your room. I did not recognize them, and I did not think of it at the time. But when I visited you the other day, the charming little chest on your nightstand was gone.

When I asked about the chest, darling silver tongued devil you are, you turned it into a saucy joke. But if someone's stealing from you, I will not tolerate it. Someone that has me as ensnared in affection as you doesn't deserve this injustice. And that is no joke.

I can think of a few colorful traditions I've used on my ship for thieves. But if I use them at the Summit, I'll spark an international incident. So I'll settle for seeing justice done on this matter.

Angered but still affectionate,

Jotham

* * *

Notice to delegates:

Please do not run on the stairs. Accidents have happened in the past.

Your safety is our concern.

 


	5. Falling Down

Journal of someone or other

Entry whatever

So. I try to do some legitimate good and the world bends me over its knee. That is how it goes, I guess.

I woke up in my bed, a chalky taste in my mouth. The chalky taste turned out to be the greater portion of my teeth. Much less smiling in my future, I can say.

One arm is broken. One leg as well, because situational irony seems to be some form of cosmic, ever-present force. The hip it's attached to did not do very well, either. Doctors expect a persistent limp, assuming I start walking anytime soon.

I am not worried about my health problems, honestly. I'm worried about other people, even as I sit here, gritting my teeth through rather horrible pain in an effort to sit up properly without cracking my hip bones in half. I need to get the facts down.

Fact number one, I did not fall. I was pushed. I was not running, although I did pick up the pace when I saw the Countess nearby. My hand was firmly on the bannister, and coincidentally, my arm is broken near the wrist. My grip did not fail me, even when my bone structure did.

Fact number two, the murmurs I heard of attempted murder at the Summit are apparently true. Not that they'll apply to me anymore, since I am going to be sent home to recover. Considering the state of Rein as well as the county at large, I am going to have to make some changes when I get back. Rationing, distributing food from my own larder, using my meager funds to import crops. If I am lucky, it will stave off the starvation of my people for a month, maybe two, before the inevitable rioting. I'd honestly prefer to not have my estate torched, if I can help it.

I hope the Countess is okay. For her sake, as well as for the sake of my estate. Not to trivialize the life of Her Ladyship, but it is a rather nice estate, and I wouldrather not see it in ashes.

I'm going to sort of miss this place. I'm going to miss my teeth more, but hey: I'll get new teeth later. I won't get another chance to come here later. Plus, I'm going home as a disgrace to my country, which stings a bit. But at least patriotism has never been my strong suit

Burning sensation is getting worse. Better take advantage of all of the various pain killers they left me.

 

* * *

Dear Lady Daria,

 

I truly did not mean for that to happen. I'll swear temperance for the rest of my days if it means it winn not happen again.

And as for your embarrassment on the topic, I know plenty of women with rather slender physiques who hide them with padding. It is nothing to be ashamed of.

 

And that is all I am going to say on the matter.

 

Walter

 

* * *

Dear Sister,

 

The horse ride we went on was nice. The fact that we had to stop because someone could not control their horse, much less nice. Even the soft foreign people should know how to ride a horse. Everyone gets taught that.

 

The man that glared at me, stupid haircut and all, was sick. I felt I should see him. So I did.

 

He looked less attractive than before, to put it bluntly.

 

He asked if someone he called Countess was alright. I said yes, but some princess nearly fell off the cliff. He paused, before laughing like a madman. I think it was the medicine.

 

Lyra again. And the pirate with the funny name, as well. And a few I didn't bother remembering. We sat down, had drinks, laughed and sang. It reminded me of home, and the last real party I had before I came here. Only less bruises at the end. It left no doubt in my mind.

Next week is going to be a good one.

 

I know it.

 

Eida

 

* * *

Jotham,

 

Why didn't you tell me before? I want to know when people are skulking around my room! Or at the very least, I want to know if they've been invited by me before they come barging into my quarters and rifling through my drawers.

 

What kind of gentleman doesn't look out for the safety and well-being of a lady he's trying to romance? A rather poor one, in my opinion!

 

Just leave me to clean up this mess. I made it in the end, after all.

 

Lyra

 

* * *

I never claimed to be a gentleman. I didn't know what they were doing, and only knew they were walking away. But in the end, I do truly care about you, and wouldn't have told you if I wasn't genuinely concerned.

 

Now I know what my concern gets me.

 

Jotham

 

* * *

Minister Ashe,

 

For the sake of us all, the boy is a moron. I will try to avoid him in the future just in case, but it seems like we don't have to worry about him right now. Nothing else to report.

 

Lord Sora


	6. Shipwrecked

Cousin Lyra,

 

Well. Considering that note on big strong arms, I thought you and your older man were going to hit it off. Rather upsetting, really. It seemed like a perfect match until it wasn't. I'm hoping you at least got to do something special before you broke it off.

Just tell your wise and honorable cousin, and I'll arrange for him to become acquainted with a few friends of mine. And I assure you, they're all rather friendly.

 

With wishes of love and joy,

Safyra

* * *

Dear Sister,

 

It seems I could not stay on top of the world forever.

 

I rode side by side with my sisters and the princess, wind in my hair, sun on my face, and oar in hand. I felt a thrum of some inner force pushing me on, even as my arms tired and my hands cramped. My chest thrummed with heat and pain as we pushed, outpacing so many other boats ahead of us. It was as if the gods themselves descended from the heavens and lit a fire in my soul.

 

Or not, as the case may be.

 

At the last moment, the boat of some fluffy woman who I never expected to even trail closely shot ahead. The pirates she took with her may have had some hand in this.

 

After all of that, to lose to someone who I could tell lacked a warrior's heart was a deep shame for me.

 

I did not leave my room for an entire day. My butler eventually forced me out, because he was tired of my moping.

 

At least I have some friends here. Maybe things will get better.

 

Eida

* * *

Minister Ashe,

 

One of the delegates from my own nation has been giving me rather strange looks. She's the one that you concluded was a threat to the assignment, but not a threat to my life. I suspected that she had known from the start, due to her rather odd looks. But this statement confirmed my suspicions.

“You know, you're one of the most interesting individuals I've ever met.”

Extra emphasis on “interesting” and “individuals” combined with a few discreet glances at my chest. I need to calm down. Tea is definitely in order.

Which comes to a gift from a fellow delegate. It isn't a blend I recognize. I did a field test on one of the bags for poisons. None of the reactions from the more common ones occurred, and it didn't fit the description of any of the uncommon poisons I've read up on. A nice reminder that not everyone at the Summit is planning something, at least.

 

Still. I plan on pulling out early. The notes I have are in my luggage, and it's doubtful anyone could get through the battery of locks on them. They will be more informative than any letter.

 

Lord Sora

 

* * *

Jotham,

 

I apologize for my rather rash words earlier. I am not apologizing for these, however.

 

You go along with me when I am charming, and are willing to help me when I am distressed. I am willing to admit that you did not deserve my criticism or my distrust. But the fact that you are willing to so thoroughly denounce any involvement with me over a single outburst is proof of something I never wished I would say to you.

 

You are not just lacking as a gentleman. You are lacking as a man.

 

I do not know how they do it in your waters, but where I'm from, treating a woman poorly can lead to a man's hands being cut off. Your particular offense is only fine-worthy, possibly flogging-worthy, but the point still stands.

 

I should have known better than to get involved with some unmarried, unwashed rogue from a piratical backwater country.

 

Good day to you.

 

Lady Lyra of Corval

 

* * *

Lady Lyra,

 

Ah, dreadfully sorry, but this letter you've sent me is a bit salacious for my sensibilities! If you’re trying to start a relationship with me, I'm not opposed to it. But I do wish you would take things a bit slower. I need to know a woman before I do

 

Well, the things you suggested in that letter.

Don't take this as a rejection! It's just, I really didn't expect any attention from possible suitors during the Summit. And I assumed your affections were preoccupied, as well.

 

So let's start with tea or a picnic, perhaps?

 

Yours Truly,

Lord Walter, Viscount of Arland

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when I started inserting puns in the chapter titles.


	7. An end, for now

Minister Ashe,

 

I'm coming home tonight.

 

The tea I drank wasn't poison. Well, not the conventional kind, at any rate.

 

Turns out I drank a contraceptive. It's supposed to inhibit estrus for women, but in both genders, it has the chance to cause stomach cramps, heavy sweating, fever and a small chance of sterility, especially if you don't drink it slowly over the course of one hour or more. Unfortunately, I've always had the habit of downing tea as quickly as possible.

 

It doesn't end there. Really wish it did. My butler, concerned for my safety when I keeled over in the middle of the room, took me to the medical ward. And they can't examine you with all your clothes on.

 

There's a very, very small silver lining here. The head butler, as well as the head of the medical staff, will actively suppress any rumor of this and allow me to leave without incident. I am obviously not allowed back in the Summit again, but under the circumstances, I'm fine with never setting foot on Vail Isle again. In fact, the prospect of putting every bit of this trip behind me is an immense relief.

 

My notes, what little are of use, are still in my luggage. I'll be much more choosy of my assignments in the future.

 

Lord Sora

 

* * *

Lyra,

 

I am so glad that we made it through the third week of the Summit without incident! The hard part is over, and we can rest easy, knowing that the test is done and the true work can begin. And though I feel sorry for the ones who could not make it through, I will keep going in the hopes of being a true and proper example to the world.

We all have reservations and regrets. I can see, from the distant look you occasionally get in your eyes, that you have them too. It's through facing these misgivings that we improve ourselves, that we stride from the past into the future. I have my own trials. I have my own misgivings, my own old wounds. But I have to push past them to be a leader.

And if the leaders of this world are anywhere near as passionate, as kind, and as determined as you, I know our future is bright.

 

Walter

 

* * *

Dearest Cousin Lyra,

 

I am at the end of my patience for all this talk of forlorn love. You jabber on and on about how you are over the man that broke your heart, and you have said little of the beau that has replaced him by your side. You are a woman obsessed, and I worry about you.

 

I remember being tethered to a man for years. He was a spice trader, and in the days of my youth, I thought him to be the most charming, handsome, and well-kept men under the sun. I only learned later that he was a merchant of poisons and drugs, as well as spice. The smile that had won my heart had led hundreds to death and ruin.

 

Don't make the same mistake.

 

With love,

Safyra

 

* * *

Dear Sister,

 

I failed.

 

I thought I had tried. I thought that the gods were on my side. I thought that I would see this through to the end.

 

I failed.

 

The Summit goes on, but I merely turn my back and limp away from it, like a dog going into the corner to lick its wounds.

 

I hope Mother can forgive me. I hope Skalt can forgive me. I hope the gods can forgive me. And I hope you can forgive me, Sister, for not following your example.

 

Eida

 

* * *

My Cousin,

 

You want to know how I have cast aside the scoundrel I used to claim to love? Fine. I'll tell you.

 

I saw him crossing towards the docks the other day. I asked him where he went, and he said he was going home, at his own will. That he did not want to stay if love had forsaken him. In such a tone that I felt he was trying to wring sympathy from the air itself! And more than that?

 

He impudently asked if I would come with him! Abandon my country, and any chance of finding someone who truly loves me, for some rogue that I'll wish a pox on a decade from now!

 

I declined, of course. Some idiotic sentiment stirred in me when I rejected him, but I've since put it out of my mind.

 

In the end, dearest Cousin, I have made the right choice. I've given up an anchor that weighed me down.

 

In the end, I am truly happy.

 

Your cousin,

Lyra

 

* * *

The stack of documents was done.

 

The informant in the copying room was certainly thorough, even if his prices were overcharged for what little information could be gleaned from the letters. Still. This was an eye-opening bit of interest. It looked like the game was set to continue. To what end, no one could say.

 

The sound of footsteps. The young woman holding the copied letters quickly shoved the documents back into the nice leather binder. She turned, looking over at her butler, winning smile on her face.

 

“Yes, Jasper?”

 

The cold, professional butler stood, at always, attentive and focused upon her.

 

“Your Highness. The guest you invited in has arrived.”

 

With a polite nod, she stood, striding over to the vanity table in the corner.

 

“Attend to them. I will be out shortly.”

 

With a bow, Jasper once again strode out of the door, closing it gently behind him.

 

Wasting no time, the woman pulled the vase and tablecloth off of a nearby box. Pulling out the key she kept in a pocket in her skirts, she turned the key, lifted the lid, and gingerly placed the binder inside, shutting, locking, and recovering the box. She couldn't help but have a smile on her face.

 

These next few weeks would be interesting, to say the least. And the key to surviving them would be keeping one's eyes open, and making sure to stay one step ahead of any others. Especially considering the current, still rather tangible, threat to her life. With any luck, however, peace isn't too much to ask for.

 

Smoothing out her skirts and suppressing an amused giggle, she briskly walked out of the door, a spring in her step and a smile on her face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. Done with this for now.
> 
> I'm glad a few of you enjoyed it.
> 
> I've always liked the idea of the most meek and mild character in a story being one of the more devious. And I also like the idea of people with high Compassion, high Immorality: wanting strongly to help people, and willing to do horrible things in the name of helping people.

**Author's Note:**

> Not so interesting yet? Don't worry. It'll get better.


End file.
